


Ink Blotted Memories

by Paradoxolotl



Series: Inked Truths [3]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Car Accidents, Character Death, Drug Addiction, F/M, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Aaron Minyard, POV Andrew Minyard, POV Neil Josten, Past Rape/Non-con, Sexual Content, Sleep Paralysis, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:00:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29953773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradoxolotl/pseuds/Paradoxolotl
Summary: Andrew is in South Carolina with Aaron; California and its dangers finally behind them. But between the pills and Tilda's violent mood swings, it's clear to Andrew that his twin still isn't safe. He knows no one else is capable of protecting him and that he can't lose him now. He's already given up everything for Aaron, so he offers his twin a deal.Besides, with Abram missing, he really has nothing left to lose.Part Two of 'Ink Stains and Paper Cuts' - I seriously recommend reading that before this one if you haven't already!
Relationships: Aaron Minyard & Andrew Minyard, Andrew Minyard & Original Character(s), Andrew Minyard/Roland, Neil Josten & Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Nicky Hemmick & Aaron Minyard, Nicky Hemmick & Andrew Minyard
Series: Inked Truths [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156205
Comments: 78
Kudos: 156





	1. Columbia

**Author's Note:**

> And we are back!
> 
> A warning for some stuff from Andrew's time in foster care, but nothing explicit.

**Andrew**

Tilda and Aaron Minyard lived in a small two-bedroom home with a yard that was more dirt than grass. The walkway was cracked concrete, and the doorknob was worn down enough to rub away the brass finish. Looking at his new house, Andrew felt nothing more for it than he did for any of his previous ones. Just because he shared blood with those inside, didn’t make this one more of a home than any of the others.

Luther opened the door without knocking, marching inside like an army general, nose high and eyes disapproving. Andrew walked in and left the door open behind him. He needed to see what kind of people he was really going to be staying with and what exactly had been done to Aaron. Growing up he had discovered the quickest way to tear down false personalities was by being difficult. It worked out for him well, as he generally enjoyed antagonizing people and didn't enjoy doing what others wanted.

The house opened directly into the living area, a hall to the right and the door to the kitchen directly ahead. The floors needed a wash and there was the smell of something burning in the air. Aaron stood up from the couch as Andrew walked in, eyes wide and clear. Looking at his carbon copy, Andrew was reminded of why he was here.

Luther turned around and shot a glare at the open doorway. “Close the door, Andrew.”

Without looking behind him, Andrew kicked the door closed with a bang. Luther’s scowl deepened and Aaron flinched hard. Andrew’s eyes locked on the movement, catching Aaron pulling his sleeves down over his hands again. Already tense from the flight, Andrew felt his anger begin to simmer.

“Where is your mother?” Luther asked Aaron, turning his back on Andrew.

Aaron gestured vaguely towards the kitchen, muttering something about dinner. His gaze was locked on Andrew, looking up and down as if unsure where to look while also trying to commit him to memory. As Luther stalked off to find Tilda, Andrew levelled an unimpressed look at his twin but remained silent. Aaron’s anger left him scowling back at him, but his shoulders hunched as he tried to make himself smaller. The familiarity of it made Andrew's hands itch to hit something.

He could hear voices in the kitchen, but Andrew ignored them, crossing the small space between him and his twin until he was close enough to touch. Aaron eyed him warily, body turned slightly away.

“Hi,” Aaron said slowly. Andrew blinked in response, absently picking at an elastic from the rubber band ball he held in his right hand. Aaron’s eyes snapped down at the noise, confusion colouring his face. “What’s with the ball?”

Andrew weighed on whether or not he should answer. It wasn’t really Aaron’s business that he was given it for therapeutic reasons, one being a way to channel his anger into something less destructive than his usual methods. He could lie, but Andrew valued his word above all else and didn't like liars. Before he could decide, however, footsteps sounded behind him and then Luther and Tilda were entering the room.

The first time Andrew was seeing Aaron's mother, and he was not impressed. Tilda Minyard was barely taller than Andrew himself, but she was rail thin. She had the same shock of pale blonde hair as the twins, but her foggy eyes were a darker shade of brown. Her skin had a slightly sickly pallor, there were purple thumbprints under her eyes, and her hair was pulled into a frizzy bun. There was no warmth in her eyes when she looked at Andrew, and he knew his own were empty.

She plastered a smile on her face, the edges wavering. Taking in the tension that had gathered in the room, she glanced between the twins. “Hello. Welcome home, Andrew.”

Andrew snapped a band on his finger.

Clearing her throat, she flicked her gaze to Luther before going back to Andrew. “Aaron can show you to your room. You two will have to share; as you can see, we don’t have much space,” she said, flapping a hand about uselessly as she spoke. “I’ll give you some time to unpack before dinner.”

Andrew made a show of looking around, raising his mostly empty hands.

“We’ll need to get him some essentials,” Luther said, looking at Andrew coolly. Someone didn’t seem very happy with him. Andrew wasn’t sure why he was surprised; he had told the man he didn’t want to be here.

“You-” Aaron looked at his mother before looking back at Andrew, “you don’t have _anything_?”

Andrew pulled an elastic almost to the point of breaking before releasing it. The sharp noise rang in the otherwise quiet room. He wasn’t going to answer the obvious.

“It’s fine,” Luther said. “He can borrow your clothing until we can get him his own.”

Of course. It was almost comical, how he felt like this could just be another foster home. The parents giving him the scraps, the leftovers, always unprepared for him. Once, when he was five, he had asked his foster mother for a new pair of shoes because his no longer fit. She had struck him across the face, yelling at him that she wouldn’t waste her money on him when she had her own children to worry about. He had to dig into the back of the closet for a pair of shoes his foster brother no longer used, stuffing socks into the toes to make them fit. He had been hit again two months later for stealing them.

At least Aaron was a similar size to him.

~~~

Luther left them shortly after for his own home, spewing some nonsense about giving them time to 'bond'. For all of his talk about so-called 'family', he sure seemed eager to leave.

Between the three of them, dinner was a mostly silent affair. Andrew figured Tilda didn’t have much to say when she had given up one twin and then had been forced to take him back fifteen years later. Andrew was under no impression that she would have gone through with the adoption if Luther hadn’t gotten involved. And Aaron was no more than a stranger with his face. Andrew was fine with the silence, he didn't have much to say anyway. Instead, he focused on the food in front of him. It was lasagna, and the meat was the source of the smell Andrew had noticed earlier. Andrew sliced his into small pieces, eating around the beef. Tilda noticed and a deep scowl lined her face.

“Eat your food,” she said, clearly trying not to snap.

“I don’t like meat,” Andrew said. He realized it was the first words he had said in front of his twin when Aaron startled.

“Are you vegetarian?” Aaron seemed excited to learn any information about Andrew that he could, leaning over the table towards him.

“No.”

Aaron opened his mouth, clearly about to ask for more, but Tilda beat him to it, “It’s impolite to not eat what’s given to you. I worked hard to make it. Eat your food.”

Leaning back in his chair, Andrew fixed her with a hard glare, pushing his plate away. It was shit food anyway. He didn’t see why he should be grateful for someone doing the bare minimum to keep two kids alive. Tilda seemed torn between wanting to yell at him and being unnerved by his gaze. Andrew knew exactly what people saw when they looked at his face, and he had no issue with using it to his advantage. In the face of his unwavering apathy, most people crumbled. He had learned patience early on and rarely cared about anything, and therefore could outlast almost anyone. If Tilda wanted to have a power struggle over her shitty meal, that was her problem.

“Aaron’s eating it,” Tilda pointed out.

Aaron shifted in his seat, visibly uncomfortable, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth, chewing rapidly. Andrew didn’t move. Tilda became visibly agitated, her hand twitching and a blotchy flush spreading across her cheeks. It wouldn't take much, Andrew realized, to see what she was really like.

“Obviously this is an uncomfortable situation,” Tilda started.

“Is it,” Andrew said, not really a question.

Tilda’s eye twitched and Aaron shrunk down further in his seat, looking at Andrew imploringly.

“Let’s just eat our dinner,” Tilda said, faux sweetly.

Andrew didn’t touch his plate again.

~~~

The room Andrew shared with Aaron was small and only made smaller with the additional bed and dresser shoved into it. Aaron’s bed was on the left, the closet shut tight and walls bare. There was a backpack and notebooks piled in one corner haphazardly, a remnant of the recently ended school year. Andrew flopped down onto his bed, lying flat on his back, watching his twin move around the room out of the corner of his eye.

Aaron dropped some clothes at Andrew’s feet, “Here. There are extra toothbrushes and stuff in the cabinet under the bathroom sink.”

Andrew glanced at his twin but didn’t respond.

The scowl across Aaron’s face matched his mother’s, but the crossed arms and sullen attitude did not. “Are you ever going to speak to me?” Aaron asked.

“Are you ever going to say anything interesting?”

“Fuck you,” Aaron spat, eyes flashing. Turning on his heel, Aaron stormed out of the room. Hearing the slam of the bathroom door and the rush of water through the pipes, Andrew took out the stack of letters from his pocket, shoving them between the mattress and the headboard. Even without his eidetic memory, he would have known the words off by heart. There was no need to keep them. But he needed the letters as a reminder that Abram had been real, that there was someone out there who knew his secrets and didn’t flinch away from them.

Abram had said he wanted to come back for him, but all Andrew could do now was wait. Until then, he had to make sure Aaron was safe. Whether he wanted Andrew’s help or not. 


	2. Cravings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my partner for putting up with my millions of random questions with zero context over the past few days! They work with withdrawal/drug use and I have no experience with fighting addiction, so they helped me write Aaron in this chapter.
> 
> I've had some writer's block, so I'm just going to throw this up so I can move on.

**Aaron**

The day after his arrival, Andrew had put on the same grey sweater and black jeans, and Tilda had taken them both to the mall to get clothes for him. Andrew was strangely efficient when shopping, just grabbing what he needed, not even bothering to try anything on. Aaron noticed everything he grabbed was black, down to the shitty flip phone he picked out. He had thought about making a comment on it, but Andrew’s blank face and hard eyes kept his mouth shut. There was something unnerving about his twin, and it went beyond the lack of expression. But Aaron didn’t really care. After all, maybe Andrew just needed more time to warm up to them; Aaron wouldn’t be happy either if he were in his twin’s shoes.

Everything had taken just over an hour to buy, and then Tilda was leaving for work and Aaron was watching Andrew sort his new clothes into the empty dresser. He folded his clothes in small, uniformed bundles before organizing them away, everything neat and orderly.

“Why do you fold your clothes like that?” His own were just thrown into the closet, half of them not even on hangers.

“Habit,” Andrew said, filing away the last of his socks.

“From juvie?”

“Yes.”

Aaron was excited Andrew was speaking to him, even if it was only going to be one-worded answers. “What did you go to juvie for?”

“Burglary, evading arrest, obstruction, and assault. Thought about adding arson to the mix but didn’t get a chance.”

Aaron searched Andrew’s face, but couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. His twin didn’t seem like one to make jokes, but the flat expression and bored voice he always had made it hard to tell. It was a strange feeling, seeing his own face so impassive. Even when he had finally met Andrew face to face in juvie, it had never changed. Aaron could almost have believed he wasn’t paying attention during it if Andrew’s eyes didn’t seem to notice everything. He had been sure to keep his bruises covered around his twin; their mom had been stressed with the move, and Aaron didn’t want to jeopardize Andrew’s agreement.

Now, watching Andrew sit on his bed, his back pressed to the headboard, Aaron couldn’t help but notice the deep purple bruises under his eyes. Aaron knew Andrew didn’t sleep last night; he had woken several times, unused to having someone in his space, and each time he looked over, Andrew had been tossing that ball up into the air over and over again. He knew where mom kept her sleeping pills, he could probably offer some to Andrew.

The thought of the pills made the urge to dig through his stash that much stronger. He usually took a pill in the morning because of the pain in his legs and head, but he had skipped it, not wanting Andrew to see and tell their mom. He was only supposed to have the pills she gave him. Now his head felt like it was splitting open and he just wanted to sit down. Andrew was watching him, his head cocked slightly to the side.

“What?” Aaron asked.

“What are you on?”

His brain stuttered. It took him a few tries to find his tongue. “Nothing.”

Andrew’s face didn’t change, but Aaron could feel the anger radiating off of him. Aaron’s irritation grew the longer Andrew sat there just looking at him, but before he could snap, Andrew stood and walked out of the room. Curious, Aaron followed him to the backyard, where Andrew pulled out a cigarette from his pocket.

“You smoke?”

The look Andrew gave him somehow conveyed just how idiotic that question was, even with zero expression. The smoke blown in his face drove the point home.

“Asshole,” Aaron coughed, retreating back into the house. If Andrew was going to be busy for a few minutes, Aaron was going to take advantage of it.

Rummaging through his closet, Aaron snagged the small tin he kept at the back and quickly swallowed a pill. The relief knowing the nausea beginning to tug at him would soon go away almost overwhelmed him. Lying down on his bed, Aaron pulled out his phone, content to waste away the rest of the afternoon.

~~~

The room was dark, the pale light from the streetlights filtering in through the curtains. Sleep was tugging on his mind, starting to pull him under. His body felt pleasantly hazy, the blankets on his body warm.

“Opioids.” Andrew’s voice tugged him back towards wakefulness.

“What?”

“You take opioids.”

“I have chronic pain,” the answer was immediate, trained on his tongue.

Aaron heard the rustling of fabric as Andrew sat up. “Yes, being someone’s punching bag usually does that.”

“Shut up,” Aaron hissed, head snapping to the door as if their mom would hear and come in, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Is it Tilda?” Andrew’s voice was flat. Bored.

Aaron’s anger spiked. “Fuck you. You just got here. What do you know?”

“That if I rolled up your sleeves I’d find bruises.”

The anger in his throat was hot and vicious, and Aaron wanted to spit venom. Andrew didn’t know anything, how could he? Uncle Luther had told him all about the last family he was with; how great they were. How they almost kept Andrew. The words were on his lips; how Andrew never should have come here. How he should have stayed with them. But Aaron swallowed them down. He just got his brother; he wasn’t going to chase him away. Clenching his hands into fists, Aaron turned so his back was facing Andrew.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” he said. “The meds mess with her moods. She doesn’t mean it, it’s just the stress she’s under. Just…just don’t provoke her.”

The room was silent except for their breathing. A car drove down the street, the noise faint through the walls. Aaron waited for Andrew to say something else, but nothing ever came.

Aaron fell asleep with the weight of his twin’s gaze pinning him down.


	3. Bonding Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for underage drinking and abuse/violence.

**Andrew**

It had been a week since he arrived. So far, Andrew hadn’t pushed through Tilda’s façade, but it had been a near thing. She always managed to hang onto her composure by the skin of her teeth, pulling back just before she broke. And Andrew wanted her to _shatter._ He wanted to see what exactly was festering under her skin; just how rotten and vile she truly was.

Finding the vodka under her bed was just one more thing to try to shred her cover apart. Pulling Aaron out into the backyard, Andrew shoved the bottle into his hands so he could light a cigarette. He had been watching his twin closely, but so far he hadn’t gained any new bruises. The tin of pills hidden in the mess of his closet hadn’t been hard to find, but with Tilda bringing in more, there was no point in getting rid of it.

They were quiet, watching birds flit in and out of the yard, the burn of the cigarette and alcohol left Andrew’s blood humming pleasantly. Aaron was high, his eyes glazed and unfocused, but he seemed content to sit in silence for once. Andrew could admit to himself it was nice.

They sat there until Andrew burned through two cigarettes, and on his third Aaron spoke. “I want to be a doctor.”

Andrew quirked a brow, not interested enough to speak but content enough to listen for now.

“I want to help people,” Aaron continued, rolling the vodka between his palms. “Kids, I think. Make sure they’re okay.”

The irony of that was not lost on Andrew. He almost pointed it out to Aaron but decided against it. He didn’t care enough to.

“But med school is expensive, and we don’t have any money saved. I would have to get a scholarship, but even then,” Aaron shrugged, his lips tugging down into a frown. “Mom says I’m kidding myself. That I’ll never get anywhere anyway because I’m a Minyard.” His face twisted into an ugly expression before he took another swig from the bottle.

He didn’t say anything else, and Andrew didn’t speak either. There wasn’t anything to say.

Andrew allowed himself to fall into a doze, the evening sun warming his face, the exhaustion of a week of little to no sleep weighing on him. It wasn’t sleeping with Aaron across the room; he had gotten used to someone being in his space in juvie and it was fine as long as Aaron was in bed before Andrew. It was the door not having a lock that kept him awake. Nightmares of bedroom doors opening in the dark would tear him from sleep and he would stare at the cheap wood, trying to separate memory from reality.

For the first time since he came here, Andrew let his mind drift to Abram. He hadn’t pulled out the letters from where he had hidden them, tucked safely away from prying eyes. Everyone thought he only had the elastic-band ball, so he doubted anyone would bother looking through his things. The last cigarette Abram had given him was still tucked away with the photos, and Andrew hated how he clung to any physical reminder of him. If he was smart, he would burn everything Abram had given him and leave him in the past.

Andrew was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of the front door slamming, Aaron flinching violently beside him. Looks like the mask was coming off. He could hear Tilda yelling Aaron’s name, anger laced through her tone. Watching Aaron’s throat bob as he swallowed, Andrew snagged the bottle of vodka back, stashing it in the bush beside him. There was no need to make the situation worse if they were already past the boiling point.

Following Aaron into the house, Andrew lingered by the doorway as his brother went to face Tilda, shoulders hunched, and head bowed.

Her face was twisted in anger and flushed, a hand gripping Aaron’s hair hard enough to twist his head. The buzzing in Andrew’s blood changed from pleasant to hot and vicious, crawling and boiling. Seeing his carbon copy like this brought memories back to the surface that he had locked away a long time ago.

“You _fucking thief!”_ She screamed, her eyes wild. “Where the hell do you get off stealing from me?”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t-“

“ _Shut up!_ ” The slap of her hand snapping Aaron’s head to the side drove Andrew forward. His vision clouded with red, the pounding sounding in his ears could have been his blood or his feet. He could feel his lip curling back, the urge to break and hurt singing through him.

He was between her and his twin in an instant, twisting her wrist far enough she had to bend her body backward to avoid a break. Squeezing until he felt her bones grinding together, Andrew pushed her until her back hit the wall, shock and fear colouring her face. A small whimper escaped her throat, and Andrew _hated_ her.

Putting his face an inch from hers, he snarled, “Don’t you dare touch him again. Got it?”

Tilda frantically nodded her head, eyes brimming with unshed tears. Andrew twisted her wrist farther, a gasp escaping her lips. When he was sure a bone would snap, Tilda squeaked out a strained ‘yes’. With a final shove, Andrew released her. She crumpled to the ground, chest heaving.

Aaron was silent behind him, eyes wide and cheek red. It would bruise. He was staring at his mother, something close to awe in his face. It pissed Andrew off, that he had to stand up for him. That he had to defend him from this woman. That his twin had been beaten down until he was too broken to fight back.

He shoved Aaron towards their room, keeping an eye on Tilda the entire time. The beast made of his anger was snarling for more, to break and destroy. But Andrew wasn’t going to help someone who didn’t want it. If Aaron told him to fuck off, Andrew would leave. He could steal the stash of cash he had found and go somewhere else, start again. He would prefer if Aaron wanted him to stay though. He had given up enough, and he knew leaving now would break something in him. So, he shoved Aaron onto his bed, hands still shaking with unspent anger and sat across from him, pulling his control back one thread at a time.

~~~

It was dark by the time Andrew could open his mouth without spitting venom. His hands had stilled, his mind was once again clear of the foggy rage he had fallen into. Aaron still sat on his bed, staring at Andrew. Over the past couple of hours, Andrew had been thinking about just what he could do to have Aaron safe. He knew he would do anything, but he needed something in exchange. He needed a reason to stay. To keep going.

“Aaron,” he said, and his twin’s eyes snapped up, looking back at him. “I’m going to offer you a deal. I’ll protect you; no one will ever hurt you again.”

“She-“

“No,” Andrew’s voice was hard and final. “Don’t feed me bullshit. I’m not staying here if I have to watch that.”

Aaron swallowed, fingers picking at his sleeves. Eventually, he nodded, but he seemed resigned.

Andrew waited until Aaron looked back at him before continuing. “I promise to protect you if you agree to stick with me. Just the two of us; no one else. We can’t trust anyone. I’ll get you to graduation.”

He could get Aaron through high school so he could go off to med school. Make sure his grades were good enough to get him some kind of scholarship. Keep Aaron busy and out of the house so he could keep an eye on him. He just needed Aaron to agree.  
Aaron blinked at him. “That’s it?” He asked. “I stay with you and you’ll keep me safe?”  
“Yes.” And he would. There wasn’t a question about that.

It was quiet in the room as Aaron thought. Andrew flashed back to the last deal he made but quickly shoved the memory away. He wasn’t coming back. Andrew needed to hold on to what he could.

“Okay, deal,” Aaron said, his shoulders slumping with relief or exhaustion.

Andrew nodded, satisfaction and something else curling in his chest.

~~~

Andrew made sure Aaron was asleep, aided by a pill before he left the room. He found Tilda on the couch, breath shallow and uneven. He would not let his twin be ruined. Not by anyone.

She didn’t hear him approach, but her eyes focused on him when his hands wrapped around her neck, restricting her air but not cutting it off completely.

Her hands weakly pulled at his, trying to dislodge him. Shaking her to bring her attention back where he needed it, he kept his face carefully blank.

“Are you listening?” He waited for her to nod. “Good. This is the only time I’ll tell you this. I don’t care that you’re his mother. If you touch him again, I will kill you.” He squeezed harder, completely cutting off her air before leaning in nose to nose with her. “He’s mine now. Don’t touch my things.”

Waiting for a beat longer, her body still struggling beneath him, Andrew let her see the darkness he kept locked away deep inside of him, just for a moment. When he released her, her body shaking with the force of her coughing, Andrew turned away without looking back. His deal had been made, and he would keep it. Aaron was finally his, and he wasn’t letting go.


	4. Not Quite All There

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not going to be a fun chapter. Little to no plot happens, so if you can't read it you don't need to. All you really need to know is there's a small time jump.
> 
> Warnings for sleep paralysis/hallucinations with memories of abuse and rape (Andrew's past) also body horror. It's going to be the most graphic thing I've written so far for this story.

**Andrew**

Andrew wasn’t sure if he was awake or not. He could feel the bed beneath him, the blankets a warm weight, and he knew he was on the edge of consciousness. His eyes were closed, his limbs too heavy to move. There was something above him, shapeless and eternal. He wanted to move, to shove it away, to lash out, but his body wouldn’t respond. The being pulled at him; Andrew could feel himself being moved, but he couldn’t fight back. It rolled him and lifted him up before dropping him back down. The world felt fuzzy and unstable. He couldn’t grasp onto his thoughts. He could feel himself being pulled to the edge of the bed, but he still couldn’t move. His back hit the floor and then he was being dragged under the bed, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to come back out.

Andrew peeled his eyes open to look at the dark room. There was nothing there. His back was still pressed against the wall. Aaron was still breathing steadily. Exhaustion pulled at Andrew. Maybe he got sucked through into some alternate reality. Everything felt strangely warped. But maybe that was just him. Against his will, his eyes drifted shut.

The smell of the sheets made him nauseas. It was lemony and bright, and only one home used that detergent. There was a cast on his foot from when he fell off the roof. No one had bothered to ask him what he had been doing up there in the middle of the night. It had taken hours until someone had answered his knocking.

Andrew blinked, and the window blinked back.

A shadow skittered in the hall, blocking out the light creeping from beneath the door for a moment. Andrew prayed it was locked. He blinked, and Steven was there, stroking his face, his smile sweet and predatory.

_Ask me nicely, Andy. You have to ask me nicely._

He didn’t want to. He knew it wouldn’t change anything. But his mouth opened anyway, and he begged and begged and _begged_ _please stop please_

He blinked and his back was against the wall in the corner, looking at the green bedspread pooled at his feet. It didn’t smell like lemons anymore.

 _Andrew._ And he knew that voice, but that voice couldn’t be here.

Abram was on the bed, Samuel behind him. Those blue, blue eyes looked at Andrew and they were full of pain and hate. The slap of skin on skin made his stomach roll. Every place Samuel touched Abram, Andrew felt on his own body. Andrew opened his mouth to scream, but then it was him behind Abram, and it was Samuel’s voice coming out of his own mouth.

_Filthy whore. I know you like this._

He reached up to claw the voice from his throat, and the world tilted. It wasn’t his own hands on his skin anymore. They were too large, too rough, squeezing too tight.

He knew it was a dream. He knew it was. But he could feel Jesse chocking him because Andrew hadn’t learned yet how to stay quiet. He pulled at the arms on him, but the skin stretching like taffy until it finally ripped off. The arms were red and slick, blood dripping into his mouth. Still, he tried to breathe, to get himself free. But his hands were covered in blood, thick and wet, and he couldn’t get a good enough grip.

 _Andrew._ Abram was staring at him from the corner. Andrew gasped for breath, the weight of a second body vanishing at the sound of Abram’s voice. Andrew’s arms were covered in blood, still weeping from the cuts he had given himself.

 _Andrew._ Abram said again, and when Andrew blinked Abram was cut open for dissection. There was a razor in Andrew’s hands, and he didn’t know if he had used it to cut himself open or Abram.

A blink, and he was a step closer to being awake. Andrew was aware enough he finally remembered his phone. It was under his pillow, only a few inches away. His fingers twitched along his sheets. There was a number he could call. They would help him. He traced the ridges of the phone and tried to call but the buttons weren’t working. Why wasn’t his phone working? His fingers twitched against his chest. Ah. He hadn’t moved at all. He needed to move. He needed

He slipped back again.

He was back in Cass’s house. He was staring into the mirror on the back of his closet door. But it was Aaron staring back at him. Fingers moved along his ribs and a hysterical laugh bubbled past his lips. _Stop stop stop_

_If you really wanted me to stop you wouldn’t be laughing._

His clothes were being torn off his body, but he couldn’t stop laughing. There was

So

Much

Pain

_Sweetheart, it’s time for dinner_

How could she not see? How could she not see what Drake was doing to him? He reached for Cass, and oh. Her eyes were sewn shut. That was why.

The mirror shattered and he was in the living room of Luther’s house. He could hear voices through the walls.

_There’s something wrong with him. He’s evil. We never should have brought him here._

Aaron was staring at him, bruises blooming across his skin.

_You promised to protect me._

He would. He _would._ But he needed more time.

The shadows twisted and too many voices were whispering in his ear.

“Andrew,” Aaron said, eyes rolling into the back of his head. He reached for his brother, but someone grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back.

_NO_

“Fuck!” Aaron wheezed, backing away from Andrew’s bed, bent almost in half.

Andrew blinked at his twin, confused on what was going on. Why was Aaron hurt?

“What.” There was a small red paper dragon floating in the air, slowly turning. It looked at Andrew, it’s small mouth opening wide to show its teeth and released a small plume of fire and smoke. Andrew blinked, and it was gone.

Aaron straightened, glaring at him. “Get up, it’s time for school.”

Andrew watched his twin leave the room, still rubbing his stomach. Pulling in a shuddering breath, Andrew wrapped his fingers around his phone. He remembered he needed to call someone, but not who or why.

Closing his eyes, he let the air out of his lungs slowly. The dregs of his dream was pulling at him, but it was slippery at best. He was left mostly with the feeling of lingering touches and dread. There was a headache behind his right eye. Pulling himself out of bed, Andrew stared at the floor between his feet, trying to think past the insistent pounding of his heart. Just getting to his feet felt like an impossible task. Today was not going to be easy.

Taking another breath, Andrew released his phone and stood. He had to keep an eye on Aaron. He had to keep his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post earlier but I've been battling night terrors and a migraine for the past few days. I was supposed to get tested for narcolepsy before the lockdown last year, but who knows when I'll be able to get in now.  
> Anyways, this was mostly a way for me to let go of the stuff my brain keeps throwing at me.


	5. Earning a Spot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Tilda's abuse but nothing physical.

**Aaron**

School with Andrew was harder than Aaron thought it would be. The school put them together for all of their classes, something about helping Andrew ease into a regular high school. It only made people afraid to talk to Aaron. His twin was a constant dark shadow hovering over his shoulder, his blank face unnerving all of Aaron’s friends. Once, someone had mistaken Andrew for Aaron in the hall and grabbed his shoulder. The dark look that crossed his twin’s face terrified Aaron as much as the switchblade that Andrew had pulled out of his pocket to press against the boy's stomach had.

After that people mostly just avoided them both.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Aaron moved towards the gym. There were exy try-outs today, and he desperately needed to get out of the house. Even though Andrew had promised to protect him, mom still had her slip ups. It didn’t happen in front of Andrew much, but Aaron couldn’t keep the bruises covered all the time. It made it worse, knowing Andrew knew what was happening but not doing anything about it. He was supposed to make things _better._ Nicky never came home, and he barely messaged Aaron anymore, his friends were afraid of his brother, and Andrew would barely _look_ at him. Aaron was ready to smack some kids around on the court.

He was halfway there when Andrew appeared next to him. Aaron was still angry at him for this morning; he was pretty sure he was going to bruise from the punch Andrew had landed when Aaron tried to wake him up. But, if there was one good thing about walking with his twin, it was that people parted for them much more readily. Aaron no longer had to fight to get past groups of lingering teenagers, all who were much taller than him. Andrew just took up so much space with his presence alone, and his flat glare did the rest.

They walked for a few steps in silence before Aaron broke. “What?” He snapped.

Andrew didn’t even twitch.

“Are you seriously going to follow me everywhere? Can you not have your own life?”

“We made a deal. Just us.”

Aaron snorted, pushing the gym doors open, “Yeah,” he replied with as much sarcasm as he could muster, “because that’s going _so_ well for me.”

Andrew’s eyes flicked over to him, lingering over the blackeye Aaron had covered before school. He could feel the anger radiating off his twin, but before either of them could speak again, Coach Tolman was running up to them.

“Boys! Glad you could make it. Andrew, it’s great to meet you,” Coach stuck out his hand toward Andrew, but he just flicked it an impassive look and then ignored it completely.

Aaron turned to his twin, “Are you trying out?” He wasn’t sure if he was angry or excited. Andrew hadn’t mentioned anything about it, but Aaron assumed because he never spoke about exy he wouldn’t be interested. Aaron wondered if he was any good.

Andrew shrugged, but Coach had a huge smile on his face, “I hope so! I contacted your old coach for your stats, we could use someone of your talent on the team. Come on, I’ve got some gear you can borrow until you get your own.”

Aaron watched his twin follow Coach off to the equipment room, wondering just how good at exy Andrew was.

~~~

Andrew was, apparently, extremely good at exy. Aaron had never seen anything like it, and Andrew wasn’t even _trying._ They were halfway through tryouts, and Andrew had blocked almost everything thrown at him. It was almost funny to see; his racquet was taller than he was, and he still threw everything away with minimal effort. Aaron knew a few of the strikers would be walking away with a few new bruises due to some well-aimed shots from his twin. Distantly, he recognized them as the ones that had maybe hit him a little too hard.

Aaron was a little in awe of his twin, and a little jealous. Andrew would have no problem getting a scholarship for school with exy; maybe even a full-ride. Why things couldn’t work out for him once in a while instead of Andrew, Aaron would never know. He channelled all of his frustration into the rest of the drills, and by the end felt a little better.

Coach stopped him and Andrew on the way out to let them know they had a spot on the team, and they didn’t need to come tomorrow. Aaron thanked him, a giant smile on his face. Andrew said nothing.

~~~

The walk home took them just under an hour, but Aaron’s mood hadn’t dimmed. He wasn’t sure how Andrew was surviving the heat in his all back attire, but Aaron was also sporting long sleeves, and didn’t have much of a leg to stand on. When they reached their house, Andrew paused outside to smoke a cigarette, but Aaron couldn’t wait. He all but ran into the house, making his way to his mom’s room.

He knocked on the door and waited for her ‘ _what’_ before opening it.

“We made the exy team,” he told her, fiddling with his backpack strap.

Mom hummed, riffling through her closet for her uniform.

Aaron shifted his weight, “Do you think you’ll make it to any games this year?”

The sigh she let out had his heart sinking, “I don’t know, Aaron. Things are more expensive with two of you now. I have to work more just to keep up with everything.”

“Okay, but maybe if we make it to championships-”

“I said I don’t know!” She snapped, and Aaron flinched back. Scrubbing her face with her hands, she gave him an exasperated look. “I’ll try, happy?”

He nodded quickly. “Okay.”

She was still looking through her closet, so Aaron grabbed her uniform off of the back of the bedroom door and handed it to her. She grumbled her thanks and started swiping on her makeup.

“Andrew’s really good,” Aaron said, not wanting to leave just yet.

“I thought you said you were good,” the words were hard to understand from the way her mouth was twisted while she smeared something onto her cheeks.

Aaron shrugged, “I guess, but he’s better.”

Mom hummed again.

He swallowed, taking half a step back. He wasn’t sure if she had eaten yet today. Sometimes she was too busy, and she would start to forget things. “Did you make dinner?”

Immediately he knew it was the wrong thing to say. She slammed her tube of lipstick down, glaring at him through the mirror. “Are you fucking incapable of making your own damn food once in a while? Jesus, Aaron, stop being so fucking useless.”

Muttering a quick apology, Aaron slipped out of the room, closing the door behind himself. He turned around to see Andrew standing in the doorway of their room, looking at him with that same blank expression. Aaron fucking hated it.

“What?” He snapped, but Andrew didn’t even blink.

Storming past his twin, Aaron went to the kitchen to make something quick for his mom to take to work. He could figure out his own dinner later. He checked his phone, but didn't have any new messages. Swallowing back the lump in his throat, Aaron pulled out bread to make sandwiches. He was just so tired of being alone.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, kudos, comments, and feedback are always appreciated!  
> You can also find me on Tumblr [@paradoxolotl](https://paradoxolotl.tumblr.com)  
> And on Twitter [@paradoxolotl](https://twitter.com/paradoxolotl)  
> Or if you REALLY want you can email me: paradoxolotl.writes@gmail.com


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